Wonder Woman:  The Great Debate - Chapter 3

Grand Theft Panty

Our Story Thus Far: the League of Virtue and Equality, a newly formed team unifying numerous superheroines and superheroes, has convened its first Trial of Grievances to settle issues between the first two groups.  In the first round, Wonder Woman's attempt to forbid any accidental or intentional slapping of bottoms by superhero hands foundered when, after being spanked live on stage by her rival Advocate, she was forced by her own lasso to admit that she had enjoyed and been turned on by the experience.  Now, attempting to gather her thoughts after her first unsuccessful outing, the Amazon thinks she has a second Grievance that will go much better for her.  Is she correct?  Let's find out!

"Whenever you're ready," Chief Justice Power Girl said; her buxom hips squirming impatiently in her seat.

“Right,” Wonder Woman said. Lifting a stack of papers, she pounded them level upon the podium, directly before her jiggling breasts, and then let them slap back down onto it. Putting both hands upon the sides of her podium, she leaned forward until her luscious lips hovered before the microphone, and glared. “The tribunal may have found my first grievance unwarranted, but this one I assure you is open and shut. I am talking about nothing less… than theft.”

“Theft?” Lord Virtue asked, curious, from behind his own podium.

“Yes,” Wonder Woman said, glaring sternly. “Theft… of our custom-fitted bras and of our sacred superheroine panties.” She raised a hand and gestured up at the screen, as it began to show footage demonstrating her point. “There is nothing more precious and personal to a super-heroine,” she intoned, “than her costume. Especially those carefully crafted parts that cover her most sacred and personal of regions; her breasts and her vagina. Yet shortly after we joined our teams together we heroines noticed a rash of disappearances in, and of, our sacred drawers. Bikinis, bustiers, and bottoms all began to vanish.” As she spoke, picture after picture appeared, grainy cell-phone footage mostly, of empty drawers inhabited by, at most, a forlorn little lace thong, or a lonely huge-cupped sports bra. “We were quite baffled,” Wonder Woman admitted. “But when we began to check our sensors, where did we find our precious costumes… but in the clutches of you super-human perverts!”

As she spoke the images upon the screens changed from the insides of heroines’ bedrooms, to those of the supposed heroes – each festooned with skimpy little trophies. One bed, which based on the gargantuan leather jock-strap sprawled carelessly across it belonged to the Reversion, had no less than six distinctive scoop-front super-panties hung up decoratively above its sheets, like championship pennants above a star pitcher’s bed. Another shot showed low-res video footage of a heroine yanking open some unknown hero’s drawer and scraping aside a mound of well-stained smoking paraphernalia to reveal a solid bed of huge-cupped bras and skimpy panties lurking underneath.

“In fact,” Wonder Woman said, “we even found evidence of a sick contest among some of the so-called ‘heroes’ of this base… where the theft of our sacred costumes was used to keep score!”

The camera now switched to an interior view of the mens’ locker room. A white board was hung up, upon which was listed each hero’s name, beside which was a series of scores for how many bras and how many panties each had managed to capture. Several newly-captured skimpy costume pieces dangled to one side, from hooks, awaiting their captors’ addition to the official scoring.

The Big Titty Tribunal gasped in shock at the sight, as did most of the busty heroines in the audience. “That’s… quite a violation, if true,” Power Girl admitted, staring at the board in shock. Her buxom hips squirmed, upon her seat. “What punishment do you request, Wonder Woman?”

“Quite simple,” Wonder Woman said, sternly. She gestured a hand up and down her own proud and curvy body, which strained against the confines of her illustrious if skimpy costume. “I move that a zero tolerance policy be implemented. Any possession of a heroine’s costume by a hero, either in his room or on his person, be grounds for immediate and summary expulsion.”

“Makes sense,” Power Girl said. She turned to Lord Virtue. “What is your response, Advocate for the Accused?” she asked.  "Oh, and by the way... after the last episode, I will not again condone the use of Wonder Woman's lasso."

Virtue raised an eyebrow - which was quite a feat given his metal mask, yet still somehow quite visible.

"May I ask why?" he asked.  "It seemed quite effective."

"It was," Power Girl allowed.  "But far too disruptive to your rival Advocate's mental state."

Wonder Woman shivered and glared, as if she had no idea what the blonde judge was talking about - and yet her voluptuous bottom twitched back and forth, still bearing some of the pink marks of Virtue's interrogation - still presented in perfect focus upon one of the screens above.

Virtue scowled.  "That is a cowardly ruling, but unsurprising, given your close relationship with my opponent," he said.  This drew gasps from both Power Girl and Wonder Woman, and an outraged look on the face of both of them - but before either could say a word, he shook his head and continued.

But it matters little, and will not affect my ability to refute my opponent's positions.  Now, to turn to that.  My response is in two parts,” Lord Virtue said.

He raised a vast finger.

“First, as to this… contest. Wonder Woman has proven it exists, and I do not dispute that. But she has not proven its purpose.”

“Purpose?” Wonder Woman snorted. One hand on her podium, she put the other on her buxom scantily-clad hip and glared at him across the stage. “What purpose could there possibly be for stealing our costumes, other than your filthy sexual perversions?!”

“What purpose, indeed,” Lord Virtue said, gesturing rhetorically. “I will remind you, Wonder Woman, that I am Head of Security for our team. Now… do you know what the greatest threat to the security of our team is?”

“No,” Wonder Woman admitted glaring. She smirked, her eyes darting down, then back up to his face. “But I’m willing to bet it’s between your legs…”

A smatter of giggles spread through the audience, but Virtue ignored them. “Infiltration,” he said, with great finality. “Nothing is a greater threat to our security than the potential for villains to infiltrate our noble ranks.”

With a sharp breath, Wonder Woman realized where he was going with this. She stared at him, face opening up in disbelief.

“There are numerous shape-shifters, body-morphing labs, and other threats out there who would love to penetrate our abode in disguise,” Lord Virtue continued. “But though they may perfectly imitate flesh, the technological wonder-fabrics our heroines’ skimpy costumes are made of are not so easy. Unless,” he purred, “they can simply steal them.”

“You… you instituted a contest rewarding your men for stealing heroine costumes… as a test of our security?!” Power Girl gasped, staring up at him in disbelief.

“Yes,” he said.

“And you didn’t tell anyone?” she said, her ultra-voluptuous ass quivering with disbelief in its skimpy one-piece, atop her seat.

“Doing that would utterly defeat the point,” he said.

“I don’t buy it,” Wonder Woman snarled. “If that was your goal, then why just bras and panties? Why aren’t speedos and boxers on that list too?!”

“In case you have not noticed,” Vile said, gesturing down to the huge-breasted panel sitting and jiggling before him, “despite our supposed equality the entirety of our highest Tribunal is female. So, whose costumes do you think a potential interloper would try to steal? Use your brain!”

Wonder Woman gasped, her eyes going wide. The woman-only makeup of the Tribunal had been a point she had absolutely insisted upon, when the by-laws were written. Now her big taut star-spangled ass wiggled as she almost felt, metaphorically, her own actions whip back around from behind to bite her upon it.

“You may not agree with my decision,” Virtue said. “That is fair, as a matter of policy. But only through our contest did we reveal just how lax you heroines’ security is. Just how utterly wide open and inviting to penetration you really are!”

“Bullshit,” Wonder Woman said. One hand upon her hip, she glared at him, eyes ablaze with quiet fury. “Okay, so there may be a few heroines out there who are lax about their personal security,” she admitted. “But the same cannot be said of our virtuous leaders. I for one, for instance,” she said, raising her chin high and smirking haughtily, putting one hand to her breast, “have never had any of my panties stolen… and I never will!”

A sly smirk spread across Virtue’s lip. He raised his remote and clicked a button. Wonder Woman’s head turned up and her jaw dropped, her eyes spreading wide, as the view of the inside of the mens’ locker room was suddenly replaced, upon the enormous screens above them… with one of her bedroom. Her own form lay slumbering, belly down, the outline of her heart-stoppingly voluptuous ass and thighs clearly visible through the thin sheets. To one side, her dresser drawer was open… and, standing atop it, the Gremlin Prince leered with perverted glee as he held one of her skimpy world-famous star-spangled panties, dangling delicately, above an open drawer packed with a dozen more.

“Actually,” Lord Virtue purred, as he advanced through slide after Wonder-Woman-pride-devastating slide, one by one. “We found,” he said, popping up one of her body squirming obliviously in the shower as an unknown male hand dangled her captured bottoms before the camera. “Your panties,” he continue, showing a slide of her working out at the gym, her hourglass figure bouncing upon the elliptical machine in a sports bra and star-spangled shorts… as yet another gloved hand dangled her panties, stolen from her locker, behind her oblivious ass. “The easiest of all,” he said, advancing again, to show her lying naked upon a beach, during a special all-women’s retreat… her panties, which she had taken off and laid aside to sun her ass, floating in the air behind her, clearly in the midst of being stolen by some invisible force. “To steal,” he concluded, advancing through slide after slide after slide.

Wonder Woman stood agape and trembling, staring at the sequence in shock. “But… but…” she whimpered.

“We put them back,” he purred, smirking at her, “to avoid tipping you off to our contest. But make no mistake, Princess. We could have rendered you naked, at any time we chose.” Turning back up to the screen, he sneered. “Now,” he continued, when gaping Wonder Woman proved briefly unable to present a verbal retort, “as for my second point. Well… my apologies ladies. I know that in many cases this will be a deep violation of privacy. But this is an official inquiry, so I’m afraid I have no choice to present my evidence.”

Recovering slightly, Wonder Woman raised her head high, and glared. “Wh… what evidence?” she asked, haughtily, hands going down to rest skeptically upon her hips.

“Proof,” he said, “that many of the panties you found in our bedrooms were not, in fact, stolen.”

And, with that, he clicked another button on his remote, and upon the huge screens a video began playing. A deep, stunned moan immediately rose collectively from all the heroines’ throats… for what the video showed, in one swift clip after another after another, was sex. Tryst after hot sweaty illicit tryst between hero and heroine… each one ending with the smitten beauty voluntarily handing over some skimpy trophy as a reward for how well her paramour of the night had pleased her.

The first clip of all showed Wolf Woman, flat upon her back and squealing, as she got fucked by the Reversion’s mighty green cock. Her tiny panties lay in a little rumpled heap upon her bed-clothes, beside her buxom quivering deep-penetrated hips.

“Your… your costume…” the growling mutant suddenly snarled, out of the blue and in mid-coitus. “Give them to me!”

Her jaw dropping, Wolf Woman briefly gaped up at her lover in shock at the request.

"Why do you want them?!" she asked.

The Reversion grinned - and then delivered another powerful thrust deep up into her buxom hips, making her groan and jiggle.

"Do you care?" he growled into her face.

She gasped deeply and then shook her head.

"No!" she said.  Reaching down with a trembling hand, she seized up her own bikini costume, where it lay hastily discarded.  Seizing them up - bra and panty both - she hurled them down towards the other end of the bed - symbolically transferring ownership, as payment for another deep thrust.

“T-take them!” she said.  “They’re… they’re yours!” she moaned, head rolling in awe. “Take them all,” she begged, “just… just… fuck me HARDER!”  She let out a loud squeal that nearly overwhelmed the speakers, when he obeyed.

Instantly, the video slam-cut to another scene. Further groans spread around the room, as this one showed Susan Storm upon her knees… sucking a hero’s cock. He towered over her, his spandex pulled up to his chest and down to his knees, but his face was not visible. Sue’s skintight vanishing suit lay in a rumpled heap to one side. But, around her voluptuous hips the blonde MILF wore a sleek and matching Fantastic-Four branded thong, consisting of a thick band of white fabric swooping in a curvy belt around her hips, and a bright blue triangle arcing down between her ample jiggling buns and up between her kneeling thighs.

In between deep slurps of her luscious lips up and down the hero’s big cock, Susan Storm looked up and blinked her blue eyes towards his unseen face. Her hands, meanwhile, rubbed delicately at her bare flat belly, just above her tiny panties. Looking up into his eyes, she slurped her lips up off his cock, and then gave it a light kiss.

“Please,” she whispered softly. She gave him another kiss, just below his cock-head, while she blinked her eyes plaintively. “Please…” she repeated, softly, “don’t… don’t tell my husband what we just did.” Eyes still blinking up at him pleadingly, she extended her glistening tongue and caressed it in worshipful, persuasive strokes around and around his glans.

He chuckled. A gauntleted hand came down, a lit cigarette smoking in it. “Of course I won’t,” a deep rumbling voice purred. A few heroines gasped, to recognize it as that of the Hung Judge… one of the most infamously best-endowed of L.O.V.E.s exceptionally well-equipped heroes. “Long as you give me something to buy my silence, of course…”

Sue breathed deep, and a blush spread across her cheeks. But she didn’t have to ask what he wanted; since her nearly-naked body had literally only one thing on it she could provide.  Bowing her head, she resumed slurping and sucking worshipfully at his penis. And as she did so, her hands slid down…and slipped her thumbs into the thick white waist of her thong. Wiggling and squirming fleshily at his feet, she managed to peel the tiny panties down over her buxom ass, down her thighs, and finally slipped them off over her ankles. Lifting them up she let them dangle between his legs, directly beneath his enormous balls… and then dropped them. They landed in a tiny blue-and-white heap, between his boots. “Yours,” she sighed softly, and then gave him another slurping quivering kiss.

The video cut away again, showing the Sea King, L.O.V.E.’s requisite underwater hero, enjoying a tremendous four-way with both Namora and both of her sidekicks, her daughter Namorita and adopted sidekick Princess Tula, aka Aquagirl. The clip cut several times, each showing the aquatic hero’s gargantuan two-foot shark-like member fucking the shit out of each of the blondes and the redheaded Princess in turn, as they squealed and screamed in awe. Throughout the entire scene, in the corner, a professional trophy case glowed… all three beauties’ proud costumes already up and on display within.

Again and again the video cut, showing further scenes, each featuring a different heroine giving in and handing over her sacred costume, as a token of the pleasurable conquest of her own sleek and shapely flesh.

“As you can see,” Lord Virtue purred, as Wonder Woman and every other heroine in the audience looked on, mouths agape in horror. From the rictuses of disbelief that appeared upon each heroine featured in the video, it did not appear that any of them had been aware they were being filmed. “Many of the panties you found in our rooms were given up voluntarily. Certainly enough that a ‘zero tolerance’ policy would be a complete mockery of justice!”

Eyes agape, jaw hanging open, Wonder Woman shook her head in disbelief… still staring, as yet another brutal hero-on-heroine conquest appeared upon the screen before her. “It… it can’t be…” she whispered, her voluptuous hips squirming in discomfort, straining within her own skimpy panties.

“Don’t take it too hard,” Lord Virtue purred across at her. “You had no way of knowing. After all, as you might expect, absolutely none of these supposedly virtuous heroines told the same story the next morning.”

He clicked another button, and a new video started to play. This one opened with Wolf Woman standing, naked, in her bedroom, beside her emptied panty drawer.

“I… I have no idea where any of them could have gotten to,” the voluptuous Latina insisted, stridently, to the investigative body of three heroines who stood before her. Her hands perched indignantly upon her buxom naked hips, her gorgeous face glared indignantly behind her mask. “Some… some vile hero must have snuck in and taken them!” Apparently unnoticed by the three, but clearly visible from the angle of the camera, a glistening and pearly trickle of semen slid out of her pussy and ran down the interior of her shapely thigh.

The scene cut, and suddenly the video showed Sue Storm seated upon her bed. She was naked. She kept one hand upon her belly, while the other held a phone to her ear.

“I don’t know what happened to them,” the beautiful blonde said. “Look, just send me another pair. Unless you really want me going commando under my suit.” She listened, briefly. “Good. Now, stop stalling, Reed, and get back to the real topic at hand.” She listened again, briefly. “Look,” she said, her tone becoming sharp, “I know the timing is a little unusual. These things happen. Yes… of course it was that time.” Another pause. “Well, it must have broken!” she snapped.

During another long pause, Sue sat wiggling in pneumatic agitation upon the bed. Looking down, she tilted her palm away from her flat, fertile belly. Within her hand she held a pregnancy test. It was blue. With a sigh, she pressed it back up against her well-filled belly and, lifting her beautiful blonde head, returned her attention to the call.

“Well, of course it’s yours, Reed,” she said, firmly. “Who else would it be?” She paused again, and her blue eyes flashed. “Don’t you trust me?” she asked. She lifted her head, and waited a few seconds. Then she smiled broadly, a smug smirk spreading across her full red lips. “Good…” she purred, her voluptuous hips wiggling with pleasure.

Suddenly, the shot cut away again. It showed an empty corridor within the base. Based on the lighting, it was well past midnight, in the wee hours of the morning.

Suddenly, from around a corner, Namora, Namorita, and Aquagirl hurried, in a swift-striding wedge formation… and completely nude. The three suddenly gasped and skidded to a big bare breast-bouncing halt, as they found themselves face to face with Power Girl.

“Hey,” the half-Kryptonian heroine gasped, as she looked them up and down with surprise. “Uh… good morning, ladies,” she said. Then, face twisting in puzzlement, she could not resist. “Why… why are you naked?” she asked, concerned. “Did… did you lose your costumes?”

Staring back, Namora briefly gasped at the mighty huge-breasted and boob-windowed blonde in shock. Then, a slight smirk spreading across her lips, she lifted her regal chin high and assumed her customarily imperious pose.

“Actually,” the voluptuous blonde cousin of Namor purred, as her equally nude and supple sidekicks squirmed to either side of her, “we sea-dwellers are far more advanced than you land dwellers. We find your obsession with clothing amusing, and nakedness completely natural. I’m sorry if we shocked you.”

“N-no,” Power Girl said, pulling her eyes up from the three heroines’ naked bodies to their faces. “Alright. Well, have a good day, ladies,” she said. And, taking one last mystified look over her shoulder, she strutted past them and disappeared.

The three were left gasping and squirming in the nude behind her. Putting their hands to their bellies, the two sidekicks whimpered, wiggling with agitation. From between their sleek legs, dribbles of creamy semen poured out of their exposed pussies… mixed, in Princess Tula’s case, with a few wispy red streaks of what had once been her hymen.

“Why did… why did we lie to her?” Namorita asked her mother, softly.

“Never you mind that,” Namora said, sternly. Hands still upon her buxom bare hips, she whirled and glared at her two young charges imperiously. “Now, let us get one thing straight. Tonight… was fun. But it never happened. Do you understand? In fact, if you ever see that brute the Sea King tomorrow, I want you to pretend you don’t even know him. Understood?”

The two young heroines trembled.

“B-but…” Aquagirl gasped. Her hand stroked nervously over her flat supple belly, inside of which lay enough ultra-potent sperm to virtually ensure she would soon be having the named hero’s child. Quivering beside her, sleek and slender Namorita was in an identically delicate condition. Raising her fingers to her lips, she bit them nervously… tasting a bit of their conqueror’s sperm upon them, from when she’d rubbed her aching well-used pussy.

“No buts!” Namora said, firmly. “Never again do we even acknowledge who he is. Do you understand?!”

The two young heroines breathed deep, eyes blinking in shock. Then, with soft sighs, they folded their hands meekly behind their well-rounded little asses, and bowed their pretty teen heads.

“Yes, mother,” Namorita whispered.

“Yes, mistress,” Princess Tula sighed.

“Good,” Namora said. Then, whirling her muscular body back around, she resumed leading them in their naked walk of shame, back towards their rooms. Instantly the video cut to yet another clip.

“Oh… oh Goddess…” Wonder Woman gasped in disbelief, as clip after clip showing the perfidy of her fellow heroines played before her.

“That’s… that’s enough, Lord Virtue,” Power Girl finally said, as she and the rest of the Big Titty Tribunal gaped up at the screen in shock. “You… you’ve made your point.”

“Thank you,” Lord Virtue said, and stopped the video.

“What… what counter-proposal do you have, against Diana’s suggestion?” Power Girl asked.

“Wonder Woman,” he reminded them, “called for a zero-tolerance policy towards possession of heroine costumes by heroes.” He shook his head. “I think I’ve proven that is a non-starter. In fact, given both the laxity with which they have secured them and the ease with which they have been shown to give them up, for security reasons, I would say it is women who we can no longer afford to allow to hold onto their own costumes.” A gasping rumble flowed through the audience before him, as he lifted his head before the podium. “Therefore,” he said, “I propose that whenever a heroine enters this base she be required immediately to strip off both her bra and her panties, or whatever analogous costume pieces she may happen to be wearing… and hand them both over into the custody of a responsible hero for safekeeping.”

Bedlam erupted. Shooting from their seats, heroines squealed in shock. Heroes crowed with glee. Grabbing up her gavel, Power Girl banged it again and again. Finally, a shaky sort of silence returned.

“The… the Tribunal,” she said, her own voice quivering at the implications, “will now confer.”

Squirming nervously, the five huge-breasted judges leaned together, and began their whispered conference. Their bottoms, clad in their own skimpy costumes, wiggled and trembled nervously upon their seats, as they debated amongst themselves. But in the end, they had no choice. Once again Wonder Woman’s proposal had been far too thoroughly discredited… leaving them, by her own by-laws, only one option.

Swallowing heavily, Power Girl finally nodded, and all five sat upright. Raising her gavel, she took a deep breath, massive breasts straining through her trademark boob-window, and then heaved a heavy sigh. “Tribunal… sides with the defense,” she said, and banged her gavel down.

To be continued...